Something New
by ariadne-chan
Summary: A series of drabbles and one-shots, mostly centered on Tsukimori Len being...well, Tsukimori Len.
1. Walk

**Walk**

Whenever Tsukimori Len and Hino Kahoko walk together--he, unwilling, and she, eager--Kahoko has to bounce on the balls of her feet, almost _jog_, in order to keep up with him.

She doesn't mind, really, but it's taxing.

She takes great care to never let it show, though.

One day, Kahoko notices that she is not straining to keep up with Len, and looks down at their feet.

And sure enough, he is taking smaller steps so that she won't have to try as hard to stay in pace with him.

She looks up at him, only to see that he is looking back at her.

Kahoko beams, and lengthens her stride.

Len follows her wordlessly, his violin case on hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They enter the practice room, and he never again even considers placing a handicap on himself for her.

---

**ah, it's nice to be back here on ffnet.** boy, is it nice. _i missed you guys._


	2. Rush

**Rush**

It's a rush, hearing your first original piece on the radio. Idling in your limousine while other respected musicians in the car beside you has their eyes closed, and they are listening to _your notes _as they wait for the light--you feel like an emperor, a fucking_ god._

But nothing lasts forever; you don't see things like that anymore. You hear other classical pieces on the radio, and yours on the lift. You let the chauffeur go; you stop thinking about a new tour or a new piece. You stare at your hands, _at your violin, _and there's a hole, a gaping chasm that cries out to be filled.

_Kahoko. _And you are in Vienna.

It's a rush, doing your first line.

---

**thanks for the reviews, guys. how humbling it is to get to read them again. regarding updates, i still haven't got past the final editing part. too little time, eh. allie, i love you. ate andie, too, and yunie. bah.**


	3. Dreams

**Dreams**

"What do you dream of? she asks of him one morning, before they settle down for their violin practice.

He chooses not to answer, and focuses on cleaning his instrument instead.

"...Tsukimori-kun?"

"Dreams rarely disturb my sleep," he grunts impatiently. The girl is just unbelievably insistent.

"And _rarely_," her voice turns slightly teasing; she must be in a good mood (has she always been this impish?), "...so when they do...?"

"I dream of shades of gray, too unremarkable to be of interest to any waking man," he replies, and he turns around to wipe the edge of his bow.

She looks thoughtful. "Ehhh...I have heard that we only remember part of our dreams. But you must dream of so little, Tsukimori-kun, to not remember anything at all."

Oh, but he remembers.

Sometimes, when the young violinist dreams of quiet, he sees the impatient flash of grey, a sigh and a bow; a trail of unruly crimson.

He does not tell her this.

---

**sugoi, i have my regular readers back! ^-^ it's such a joy to hear from you guys again. **and even more glad that you still find my words interesting.** see you at the next chapter! chu! ^*^**


	4. Moon

**Moon**

The rains have earlier bruised the streets with pockmarks and puddles. Hino Kahoko pays them no mind now as she hums and swings her violin case cheerfully about, so the cerulean-haired violinist lets her dance on ahead into the clear evening.

The thought of loving her has not wholly escaped him. It is not difficult, he knows. Perhaps it is possible that he loves her even now, in some small measure. He ponders words like propriety and consequence and maybe, maybe, fear, and acknowledges that words only matter when he wants them to.

_I will be leaving soon._

She stops and turns, a luminous smile cresting on her face, and all thought is gone from his head.

At his foot, a puddle ripples, blissful in thinking that it has caught the moon in its gaze.

Tsukimori Len pities the fool who presumes a watered imitation could ever mirror the heavens. He shakes his head and feels very human.

---

**nyaha, i've been typing and retyping the chapter title for about an hour, until i finally decided that 'moon' suits this better than 'rain.' maybe it's because 'moon' equals to 'tsuki' in kanji. **_i know, i'm very biased._** feh. i sooooo love your reviews, guys. and oh--check this story out if you want to read something emotional but not overly so; something highly inspiring and tear-inducing **_whoa, it rhymes_ **sniff sniff:**

w w w. fan fiction . net /s/5637438/1/Breathe by Talbot-Stark. _ignore the spaces, if you please._ XD


	5. Emotions

**Emotions**

Tsukimori Len believes that emotions are troublesome.

Expressing them takes a whole lot of effort, is what he thinks, and there is no need to go that far just to please others. He thinks that people show emotion and laughter and smiles just for each other's benefit. So he _doesn't_, because there isn't anyone (he thinks) who comes to mind when he asks himself who he would like to please. Saotome-sensei, perhaps.

One might say that he isn't concerned for anyone's well-being if it inconveniences himself.

And then, there is _Hino._

He sees her try her best, and all logic flies out of the window--he finds himself enjoying once in a while, finds himself cracking through the icy exterior that he has so painstakingly built up over the years.

This doesn't bother him as much as it should, though, and it puzzles him.

And then, one day, Len wakes up with a small smile on his face, and he promptly masks it with a scowl.

_Hino Kahoko,_ he muses, and he thinks that he may just be a little bit happy.

---

**haha, kinda weird. like it was written on a child's point of view, don't you think? ^-^**


	6. Series

**Embellishment**

She watches tongues of orange skin spiral onto the table, discarded without a second thought as he cradles the pulp gently, like he would an infant's head. Hihara-kun has bought some oranges and asked me to give you these, he tells her, and the information nudges a path to the back of her mind, heard yet temporarily forgotten. Perhaps he feels guilty for making her wait for him to arrive. She recalls the time when he had walked her home just because he had been late for their practice. Perhaps he feels responsible for her catching a cold. _Perhaps._ As he pulls the last of the skin away, his fingers pinch into the fruit, and a trickle makes it way down the base of his thumb, the inside of his wrist. The air around them sharpens with the slightest tang. Kahoko feels that trickle making its way through her.

She tells herself that fascination is enough. The orange is only embellishment.

---

**Waiting**

Hino Kahoko is tired of waiting.

It is true what they say, she realizes, that the heart grows weary. When love goes unreciprocated for so long it is whittled down to a sliver of what it once was, a different emotion bearing the guise it has worn for months now simply because it has known no other way of being.

She thinks all of this as she watches him at his rehearsals, a little angry that he knows she is watching him and does nothing, a little sad that it matters to her still.

Tomorrow, she thinks. I will stop waiting tomorrow.

---

**Full Circle**

"Here."

She takes the fruit he offers, round and urgent like the world.

---

**alternate universe? too OOC? yes? no? i dunno. i'm not quite myself these days.**


	7. Halloween

**Halloween  
**

Tsukimori Len sighed as he took a glance at the wall clock. Fifteen minutes to six o'clock, and it is time to go home. He took another sigh as he bent down to secure the violin inside its case. Another day of meticulous practice has passed.

He pushed the door open, and he frowned as an indescribable figure met his eyes.

"..."

"Eh?! What're you still doing here, Tsukimori-kun?!"

He shrugged her question off.

"...And what are you supposed to be?"

"Neh?" She blinked, and he frowned, again. He must have missed announcements regarding Halloween parties and stupid costumes. "A ghost," she added _helpfully._

"You look like a bed sheet."

---

**yeah, pointless. applaud me.**


	8. Watch

**Watch**

He sat across the room, watching her from afar.

She looked nervous, but _holy cow_ was it cute. He sighed, and then he briefly contemplated on the striking effect that the midnight blue halter dress created against the bright flame of her hair as she tentatively swayed to the music. Really, she looked nervous--but who _wouldn't_ be when they were surrounded with people of the high circle, people of the elite; people they would be playing an ensemble for _tonight. _She'd visibly lighten up even by less than half a notch when a certain shy clarinetist or Amou the omnipresent news girl would wander by and whisper something in her ear, then the moment would pass and she'd be back to her charmingly awkward dance.

And this--_this_ would be the day he spoke up. No more just watching from across crowded parties, from across the stage as she performed, from the distance between the fairy statue and the school gates. Downing the last of his glass and praying it would somehow give him courage, he rose to his feet and began to make his way over to her.

But someone beat him there. _He_ beat him there.

He watched as Hino Kahoko flushed scarlet to the cerulean-haired boy's seemingly harsh words; she fidgeted in discomfort as he turned on his heel and then she rummaged under the table for her precious violin case.

Mission aborted. For tonight, at least.

---

**kinda open-ended, eh?  
**


	9. Insanity

**Insanity**

Waiting.

Her legs have already collapsed and her knees are scathed--arms crushed as her fingers tremble--_from the cold or from her unrecognized emotions--_and it all showing in the furrow of her brow. Her hands are clenched and they involuntarily twitch beneath the heavens. She sniffed, and in between arguing with herself why she _ever _thought of bringing the all too big violin case with her, now she's just waiting.

Her eyes are shut tight, but in concentration, not pain. _His last day on Japan, and here she is, huddled uncomfortably trying to stay dry while the rain fell around her, and she waited for him to pass before he took his flight abroad. _She can almost see it: her own reflection, weary but willful. And now she can almost feel him with her, a friend.

Maybe.

Maybe she's just going insane from it all. Perhaps she's focusing too much. But maybe she isn't. If she can let herself unravel, she can almost clutch at the notion. It's funny, she can see him stare her square in the eye, and feel her mind go blank. But when it does, he's somehow clearer, eyes fixed on her intently. Maybe. It _could_ be just her imagination, a mirage spurred from will instead of reality. But one thing's sure.

She won't be waiting much longer.

---

_seven minutes, approximately 215 words._** now, now, i don't know how to explain this one. heh.  
**


	10. Drink

**Drink**

Absolute darkness.

He saw absolutely nothing, save for a very faint light and a hint of crimson. Of course, that wasn't enough to allow him to move around without bumping into something, but at least it was a little bit of sight. His hands were open and his fingers were spread apart, waiting patiently. Finally, something warm came in contact with his hands. A porcelain mug, no doubt; but what was inside?

Blindly gripping the handle, he lifted it to his lips and took a quiet sip. The warm liquid burned against his tongue, and throat, leaving an almost filmy feeling against both. It was, at least, satisfying, but something he wasn't familiar with. It tasted frothy and sweet with a hint of sugar, and there was an exotic something in its contents. He licked his lips and raised a brow behind the blindfold.

"Is this some sort of new soup?" he asked quietly, unsure of what she had just given him. She laughed and took the mug from his hands, taking a sip herself before speaking.

"Nope. It's called _coffee_." It was then that Hino Kahoko leaned forward and kissed him before untying the blindfold. Tsukimori Len only smiled at her, confirming that coffee was now one of the best drinks to ever grace his lips.

---

_twenty-two minutes (what took me so long? feh)._** tad ooc, but i hope you enjoyed this. ^-^  
**


	11. Time

**Time**

"Take your time," she had said. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here for you."

"I need to think," had been his response.

She hadn't asked about what, and he was grateful. It scared him enough how she was able to read him like an open book sometimes. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be him reading her, him always knowing exactly what was running through her head. But she surprised him. He was surprised at the realization that he didn't always know what she was thinking about. In a way she was so much deeper than he was, just because she liked to stop and enjoy the view from where she was.

In that way, she'd seen more.

In the end, he mused, perhaps that was all that mattered. But of one thing now he was sure. He wanted to look out the window and observe what he saw, not pass over it because it didn't have a purpose.

"Take your time," she had said. "Take all the time you need."

Suddenly Vienna seemed so far away.

_I'll be here for you._

---

**more fluff. eh. to the people who took the time to greet me on my birthday, love you loads. *wink wink* **looking back, i think i shouldn't have celebrated the day i got older, but it seems i just can't resist the food.** o_O**


	12. Naturality

**Naturality**

This was completely and utterly ridiculous, she thought, and she knew that he was thinking it too. It was natural--they often spent time doing double practices, that was how well she'd gotten to know him--but sometimes, even at this point she felt like she didn't know him at all. People were not lying when they called him a block of ice.

He was as untouchable and as unmeltable as ice, he felt like ice--hell--his eyes, they seemed like ice in its purest form.

She'd always hoped she'd be able to change that.

He'd never thought about letting her, but it was just natural. She was going to get under his skin sooner or later, that's just the kind of person she was.

But it was completely and utterly ridiculous how both of them sat under the same moon and the same stars and wished for better days--when he was so painfully aware of reality and she was supposedly so content where she was now.

Things always had a tendency to change. It was just natural.**  
**

---

**change. immortal theme, so it seems. *sigh***


End file.
